


Are You There, God? It's Me...Allison.

by trashboy24



Series: October Gore Challenge [1]
Category: Umbrella Academy
Genre: Blood, Existentialism, F/F, Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashboy24/pseuds/trashboy24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's been so long," started Vanya. "It's been so long since I've seen normal blood."<br/>(fic for goretober by tumblr user junidoe! day 1- excessive gashes/lacerations)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You There, God? It's Me...Allison.

**Author's Note:**

> so i saw this thing on tumblr and it's just an art gore prompt for every day of october so i was like i cant draw so lets write it! it was actually pretty neato to write this and i really like how it turned out which is a bit unusual for me so yehaw

"It's A Perfect Day!" read the newspaper headline. The town had 52% humidity, 0% precipitation, and excellent air quality. It was a particularly quiet night downtown. Most everyone had been in bed by then, take away your random bar or strip club.

Though an abandoned concert hall, the Icarus Theatre was sound proof from the outside. No one heard the car crash. No one heard the angels suffocating. It was almost as if no one was alive to hear the Orchestra Verdammten. No one to remember the sound of two parts Faust, three parts La Bohème, a dash of the Messiah, or even a bit of the Conductor’s cantata was around.

The particularly quiet town wasn’t awake to witness the Apocalypse Suite.

The sound of her screams were cut. Her vocal chords were ripped apart, her neck torn open. She was useless now. Her abilities, useless. The blood was streaming from the wound, when a bleached white hand reached down to touch it. Allison's wide eyes followed the hand up to the face of its owner.

"It's been so long," started Vanya. "It's been so long since I've seen normal blood."

Allison was bleeding out from her neck, more than Dr. Terminal or any other enemy had ever caused. Tears were flowing nearly as much as the blood.

“Why are you crying?” Vanya spoke with uncharacteristic anger towards her sister. She picked up her bow and dragged it across her arm as if it were a knife. A near tar-like substance came from the wound.

“At least you can bleed,” Her vitriolic smile spread back across her face. Her gaze was dead in Allison’s eyes. Vanya lifted her violin back under her chin and played a dramatic D minor.

Another wound made its way across Allison’s shoulder, the blood soaking through her clothes. She was certain she was dying. She knew she would die, on the floor at the hand of her sister. Her vision was getting hazy until Vanya was just a white blur. She started showing signs of going unconscious when she was brought back to the real world by another deep gash, this time in her leg. Allison was shedding tears, her entire body numb. They felt like individual tongues of fire dancing on her skin.

“You can’t fade already, darling,” Vanya dragged her bow across the strings of her violin. “The show is only beginning.”

As if the instrument was a knife against her skin, every time a new note was played, a new laceration was cut into Allison's flesh. Muscles were being torn all over her body and all she could do was cry and wait for it to end, whether it be her dying or bleeding out or being rescued by a miracle.

This was the first time Allison Hargreeves had really questioned the existence of God. Up until now, she had referred to herself as agnostic, but in the hands of death, she saw no God, capital "g" or not, there to save her. She saw no heavenly white light, only the ghost of her sister playing her violin.

The entire time was spent in Allison's mind, repeating, "Please, God, help me, I need help." Her thoughts were screaming where no one could hear her. After she felt like her body could never be saved, rather than wishing for God, she wished for death.

"Please, just kill me already, I don't want this."

As if Vanya had heard her thoughts, her song slowed down and became softer. Her wounds were healing all over her. It didn't feel like they were simply disappearing, it felt like the cuts were closing. She felt like her muscles were being sewn back together by an angel after being ripped apart by a demon.

Allison passed out during the last movement of Vanya's piece and woke up in her own bed. She was under her blankets, completely clean of blood but covered in scars.

Maybe she did see a white light. Maybe she was healed by an angel. An angel who had been told her whole life she was nothing special, merely the seventh child. The fallen angel simply wanted to prove that she was as extraordinary as her siblings.

Allison closed her eyes and put her hands over her chest.

In her now raspy and broken voice, she whispered, "I always knew you were special, Vanya."


End file.
